Wolves of Skyrim
by The New Mandalord
Summary: The long winter is over and spring is coming back. With it comes new life, new species, and new challenges. Based off of the Hearthfire DLC.


**Hello people, The New Mandalord here.**

**So I here I have yet another Skyrim ne-shot with Jericho and Lydia.**

**This takes place after the long winter, which lasted eight years, and is the start of the new spring. Mainly it centers around the Hearthfire DLC.**

**Now keep in mind that I took some creative liberties with this, because as a PS3 owner I can't get neither Dawnguard or Hearthfire until Bethseda gets its head out of its asses. So if I get anything wrong, just PM me.**

**So for now read, enjoy and review.**

* * *

The morning had dawned clear and slightly cold, with a certain humidity that hinted at the end of winter. Jericho walked through the thawing brush of Falkreath Hold with his ebony bow, a quiver filled with steel tipped arrows, and a full game bag. The long winter had been hard on him and Lydia. Some days he would come home with rabbit, squirrels and pheasants, while others he came home with skeever tails. One time he was able to kill a mammoth that wandered too close to Whiterun for its giant masters to notice, and out of desperation Jericho killed it. It had caused chaos with people bidding on parts actually trying to hack off pieces when Jericho and the Companions weren't looking. Vilkas and Farkas had intervened and sent him with his mammoth to the butcher, but not before it had been badly damaged, with hunks of meat taken, and the hide riddled with holes. Although everyone paid fairly, there was less meat than Jericho had hoped.

Now spring was finally coming back, and with that more plentiful game. Just this morning he had already collected three duck, five rabbits, three foxes, and was able to harvest enough venison to last them a month if properly salted. The bones and antlers he saved for soup and alchemic remedies.

As he followed a beaten path back to the main road, a certain instinct within him went off. A cold chill tore through him, causing him to pull his coat tighter, and the hairs on his neck to rise. There was the unmistakable scent of blood on the wind. He drew his bow and loaded one arrow as he crept through the forest, staying low just in case.

He found the source not too far off. A great-horned elk lay dead in a small clearing near a stream. The massive gash in what used to be its throat told him that now normal predator did this. Looking closer he saw that one of the mammal's huge, spear-like horns were missing. Whatever killed it had probably died not far off.

He crossed the shallow stream and found the killer.

"What in the name of Oblivion is that?" Jericho said out of sheer shock.

Half-buried in bloodstained frost, a huge white shape slumped in death. Some night ice had formed in its shaggy off-white fur, and the faint smell of blood clung to it like a noble lady's perfume. Jericho glimpsed blind eyes now crawling with maggots, and mouth filled with sharp yellow teeth. But it was the size of it that put him into a state of awe. It was bigger than any of his draft horses, and ten times bigger than any wolf he came across in the wild.

He then remembered something he read while at the College of Winterhold. A very old book that told about the ancient species. It is said that these great wolves used to hunt the Great-Horned Elk in Skyrim and Cyrodiil, but have not been seen since the First era. Now with the return of the Elks, it made sense that their predators came with them. The book called them tonitrui lupus, but in the common tongue they were known as, "A Thunder wolf."

In her throat, just under the jaw, was the antler that killed her. Jericho knelt and groped under the beast's head with his hand. He gave a yank and held it up for the whole world to see. Over three feet of shattered antler, tines snapped off, and all wet with blood. Jericho washed it off and put it in his game bag. It would fetch a nice price in Falkreath, a better one in Riverwood.

"Tough old girl," he said. "I'm surprised she lived long enough to make it here."

He then noticed several minor whimpers coming from the corpse. On the other side, three young pups, the size of regular dogs, all nestled in their mother's side. No doubt confusing Jericho's actions for living motion from their mother.

None of the pups looked anything like their mother. They were either raised by this one, or they found her laying here already dead.

In Skyrim, this would be considered to be a bad omen, but Jericho saw it differently. Despite being a good hunter, he always had a soft spot in his heart for forgotten things. These pups were now outcasts and they would not last long on their own. Too small in size and numbers to be a real pack, and they had no true hunting experience. There was one male and two females.

Jericho sighed as he took a sliver of venison out of his pack and skewed it on the antler. In the back of his mind, he knew Lydia was going to kill him.

Back at Lakeview manor, Lydia was showing her daughter, Julia, how to best deliver a sidestroke in the training yard when the main gates opened.

"Your feet should be farther apart," she urged. "You don't want to lose your balance. That's good. Now pivot as you deliver the stroke, get all your weight behind your blade."

Using her mother's advice, Julia was able to clash bladed with her for a while. But Lydia was able to slip her dull blade between her young daughter's legs, and caused her to land right on her behind. This got a few chuckles from the housecarls.

"And which one of you was a warrior at eight?" Lydia said. She knelt down and pulled Julia up. "Come on, get cleaned up."

Julia had been born during the long winter. All that she had known was hardship and the coldness of life. But now spring was coming, and she could act like a child again. She had Jericho's complexion and her mother's beauty. Her face was usually covered in dirt, her dark brown hair was always messy, and the last of her baby teeth had finally fallen out.

The young girl also had a morbid fascination with dragons, mainly the remains Jericho kept in his trophy room. Ever since she could walk, she always made a point to seek out the dragon skeleton that he had hid in a cave. But when they made the move from Whiterun to Falkreath, that skeleton was locked away in his trophy room. But Julia had persisted until she was able to pick the locks and found the remains in the dark room. Jericho found her that morning, sleeping within its giant skull.

Julia fussed with her visor and helmet. Lydia then heared Rayya say, "What in the name of Oblivion are those?"

Lydia turned. Through the eye slit of her helm, she saw the oddest looking dogs she had ever seen in her life following Jericho through the main gate. They looked like wolves, just clumsier. Like pups. They all huddled around Jericho because he had a piece of venison on an antler.

She walked up to him, ready to hit him, when one of the pups rushed over to her and melted away any form of resentment or anger. The young pup had beige and white fur with some streaks of autumn red that matched her yellow eyes.

"I take it you like her." Jericho said as he fed the pup her share of the venison.

"I thought you went out hunting this morning," said Lydia, as she scratched the pup under her soft chin. "Not pet hunting."

"I couldn't help it," said Jericho. "I saw them, knew they couldn't live on their own, and thought Julia would like one."

"Like what?" Julia asked, dripping with water and dirt. But when she saw the tan and grey one, her face just lit up like the summer sun. "Can I keep her father? Can I? Please!"

"How can I trust you?"

"I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give her such from that."

Jericho weighed his daughter's words with her actions long and carefully. Lydia quickly stepped in, "Easy to say, and harder to do. We will not have you wasting the servants' time with training them. If you want this… pup, you will feed them yourself. Is that understood?"

Julia nodded eagerly. The pup squirmed in her grasp, and licked her face with a warm tongue.

"You have to train her as well," her father said. "That goes double for you. The kennelers' will have nothing to do with these beasts, I promise you that. And the Nine help you if you neglect them or train them badly. These are not dogs that beg for treats or slink off if you yell at them. These are thunder wolves. A thunder wolf will rip a man's arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog can kill a rat. Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes, father," Julia said.

"Yes," Lydia said.

"These pups might die, despite what you do."

"She won't die," Julia said. "I won't let her die."

He rolled his eyes and said, "Fine, show yours around the grounds, introduce her to the others, and make sure she doesn't eat any of the livestock. Come along, Crowe."

"Crowe? You already named one?"

"Of course," Jericho looked down at the only male pup. He had black fur and bright green eyes. "This one is mine."

Over a month had passed since that day, and since then the wolves had been settled in quite well. They were now the size of ponies and made great guards for the manor. They scared away the smaller wolves that preyed on their cattle and hens. Crowe made for a great hunting companion, able to take down a mammoth and giant in one fatal attack, while Lydia's wolf, Tilla, was good back-up whenever she was on a job. Most bandits got scared away just at the sight, any who were too stupid became a quick meal.

Against her parents' wishes, Julia named her wolf Potema – after the Wolf Queen of Solitude. She would ride her wolf all around the grounds better than any horse, and Julia loved how she would howl while Llewellyn recited any poetry.

The spring night was clear and the air was crisp. Julia played by Lake Ilinalta with Potema, Tilla and Crowe. She tried to catch torch bugs and go for a night swim under the watchful eyes of the three thunder wolves.

Meanwhile back in the manor, Jericho sat on his bed reading a book about the history of the Snow Elves in Skyrim. Caused by the warmer weather, Jericho was dressed only in his britches, while Lydia wore only a light silk tunic that clung to her skin.

Her hair was still damp from her bath, and her pale white skin was cool to the touch. She lay next to him and curled up to his side. He did not seem to notice her, not even when she draped a leg over his and put a hand over his chest.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

"In a world that always changes, and yet somehow stays the same," Jericho sighed. He closed his book and put it on the nightstand. "There are still those in the nine realms who call me Storm Slayer."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Lydia purred as she gracefully moved up to straddle him. She began to slowly grind her wet core on his half-awake manhood.

"I can think of several things, my love," Jericho groaned. He felt her damp hands slip underneath his cloth and rub his shaft to its full wakefulness.

She licked her lips, eyes feasting on his rigid cock. Slowly, she moved her fingers down the shaft, watching the loose layer of skin slide back with her hand. "Well," she said as she gradually pulled her hand back up its length, watching the skin bunch up around the head. "I'll just have to do my best, won't I?"

Jericho groaned, releasing her shoulders to allow her to dip her head and finally take the head of his cock into her mouth. He nearly came out of his skin. No mouth had ever felt that good, and Jericho has had them all over Tamriel before coming to Skyrim. Even the scrape of her teeth as she struggled to take in as much of it as she could felt really good.

He let her nibble and suckle for precious moments, growling when she slid a free hand to cup and handle his balls.

"Ah, Lyd!" he roared, pulling him away just as she re-discovered the sensitive underside of the head with her agile little tongue. She protested, but he shoved her back into the bed, coming down on top of her, "We can explore that later," he promised, reaching down to grab his cock. "But let's skip the formalities. Roll over. Get on your hands and knees"

"Oh, yes," she purred and complied, letting her beautiful, well-shaped ass face him. His worn, callused hands slid over it, squeezing her cheeks like ripe melons. His thumb trailed down the crack of her ass, delving deep. His fingers slid around until two of them slipped into her soaking core. She moaned as Jericho began his slow pumping.

Lydia loved it when he did this to her, but lost her voice for the words. Her back arched at the sheer ecstasy of having any part of his body penetrating her.

He adjusted, and the fingers left her flesh. She protested at the loss, only to gasp and flinch when his palm cracked against her ass. She froze for a moment, staring at the blankets before her. The same hand smoothed over the sting. She had just relaxed when he slapped the other side.

"Toughen up."

"Easy for you to say."

Smothered by his body, Lydia tried to squirm. She gasped when he dug the fingers on one hand into her hair and yanked her head back. Lips brushed her cheek. All at once, Lydia's body tightened and trembled. "By the Nine!" she moaned.

"Lyd," he hissed, pushing her back. "Back on your knees."

She scrambled to comply, crying out when he spanked her again. Not stopping. Not until her backside was aflame. Then, with a harsh cry of his own, he slammed his cock deep into her dripping depths. She screamed, the pleasurable pain far too intense to contain. Instantly her body convulsed, her mouth gaping as she struggled to breathe as he filled her. This position put a whole new meaning to deep. She fell to her elbows, pressing her forehead against the blankets as she adjusted to the impossible fill of his invasion.

"Gods!" she gasped, clutching and panting. "Mara, Dibella, yes. More, please!" It hurt but oh, what an exquisite pain it was! "Yes!"

He pulled out, and then thrust back in hard. She couldn't stay still. Her hips canted to the side, finding a new angle where he rubbed her in a new spot. The next time he shoved forward, she threw her hips back at him. They both gasped as she managed to take just a little bit more of him.

"Fuck," he muttered, pressing his forehead to her spine. She shoved back again, and growled, catching her hips. "Stop moving. I'll come."

"Yes!" she cried, pushing back against him.

"Talos above!" he reared back, and she chanced a glanced over her shoulder, just watch that hair slide behind him, his eyes closed, his face tight in concentration. He caught a firm grip of her hips and set the motion, feeling like he was fucking a goddess in mortal form.

She spread her thighs and pushed back, furiously matching his rhythm.

She spiked with a scream, and he growled, fucking her through her convulsions so that the orgasm never quite ended. She cried and clutched and moaned, quite sure she was in agony but feeling nothing but ecstasy.

When she could take no more, he came, filling her with his seed.

He wasn't finished. Propelling her forward with a push, he fell atop her. Eagerly, he pushed her long hair aside to devour the sensitive skin at her neck. She shuddered, the wash of pleasure a surprise after such a great release. He lapped and nipped at every inch of her back, down to the cheeks of her ass. She wiggled when he bit her there, groaned when he slapped her yet again.

"Why did that feel so good?"

She buried her face in the pillow. Lydia yelped when he fell heavily beside her and flipped her body over so that she was cradled in the curve of his. He tucked her top thigh onto his hip, thus spreading her, then guided his cock back inside her. Again he drove into her until she sobbed with release.

He lay back a moment to catch his breath, then rose to retrieve water to wipe them clean and opened the windows to let the cool air in. He called out to Julia, telling her that it was time for bed, and told Crowe to take her in if she didn't listen. Lydia smiled though it was uncomfortable and despite every inch of her was deliciously sore.

When he finally crawled onto the blankets beside her, she snuggled against him. Her cheek pressed to the toned muscles of his chest, her shoulder tucked neatly under his arm. Her breasts pressed against him and her leg thrown over his, she had never felt more at peace in her life. This was her home and this was the man she loved.

"I am yours, and you are mine Jericho." She murmured as sleep took her.

"I am yours, and you are mine Lydia." He whispered, falling asleep to the hypnotic song of the wolves' howls.

* * *

** Author's Notes:**

**Lydia: Giant wolves and eight year winters?**

**Look, I figure if there are Ice Wraiths, Mammoth herds led by Giants, Honks, Dragons, Trolls, and Sabre-Tooth Cats. Then why not?**

**Lydia: So is that why Zanu and Elisif are now an... er... item.**

**Cool it! **


End file.
